


A Bit of a Mess

by quantum27



Series: a cup of good intentions (tron one shots) [16]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Bruises, Car Accidents, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, close enough am i right, in which i mean a brief description of a lightcycle crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27483052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantum27/pseuds/quantum27
Summary: “I can’t let you go alone out there.”"What do you mean?  You do it all the time.”“You aren’t injured most of the time. Let alone this seriously.”
Relationships: Kevin Flynn & Tron
Series: a cup of good intentions (tron one shots) [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872664
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19





	A Bit of a Mess

**Author's Note:**

> boy gets zapped

Tron frowned at the way Flynn was holding himself, stiff as a board, with small labored breaths. He was trying to play it off because of course he was. 

See, the thing was- Flynn had crashed his lightcycle- it had rolled ever so elegantly over a long stretch of the land. If he’d had one of the newer generations of lightcycles, he might’ve been able to get out of it, but instead, he’d been trapped inside. 

Tron had. Well. He had panicked. It wasn’t exactly something he did. He was designed to stay cool in almost any situation, but there was something utterly terrifying about the whole situation. The dark shield of the lightcycle had obscured Flynn, and at first, there was no way Tron could even tell that the User was still alive. Again, it was terrifying. 

He’d rushed to the wreckage, pieces of cycle wavering in and out of existence as it was stripped to its very barebone code. Tron had torn apart pieces with his bare hands, voxels crumbling beneath his fingers, hoping that Flynn hadn’t been another person to add to the list of people Tron had failed to save. 

Flynn had been alive, blinking blearily at him, and even a smile crossing his face when he registered who his savior was. The security program had rushed to pull him out of the wreckage, much to the dismay of Flynn who had let out a cry of pain as he wrapped his arms around him. Flynn was alive but injured. 

After that initial fluke, Tron had more gently tugged him out, a trail of sparkling voxels left behind. All the while, Flynn had been wheezing, spluttering coughs coloring his breath. 

When he was finally out, the User hadn't been able to walk quite right. Flynn had quickly identified it as a ‘twisted ankle’. They’d had to pause then, Flynn had thought of the idea of checking his disk, possibly identify his injuries with it if he could. 

“I think. I think I have a concussion at the very least. And of course the ankle- My ribs...I don’t. Think they’re broken? Bruised, maybe-” His words had been slower than normal, and Tron found himself unable to keep his gaze away from him. He was disheveled, small scratches donning his skin in little patchworks. There were bits of grime splattered around him here and there. 

After that, Tron had decided to take Flynn to the portal. The User hadn’t even been in the system that long, but the portal was  _ so _ far away. He’d tried to be gentle on the trip over, smooth with his lightcycle and jet. But there was only so much he could do, and Tron felt immense guilt every time Flynn let out an involuntary grunt or whine of pain. 

Now they stood in front of it, the blinding blue light of the portal somehow casting a sickly glow over Flynn. It didn’t usually do that. 

He’d been ready to walk into it, or more accurately, limp into it. Tron had acted before thinking, grabbing the User’s shoulder. 

“Tron?” He raised an eyebrow. There was something wrong with Flynn’s face, odd splotches color starting to form around his temple. 

“I can’t let you go alone out there.” He said, voice low and verging into the territory of a growl. 

“What do you mean? You do it all the time.” 

“You aren’t injured most of the time. Let alone this seriously.” Small scrapes here and there and- what were they called?  _ Bruises. _ That was what was happening to Flynn’s face. Odd discolorations that happened to Users’ skin. 

Flynn tried to sigh, but it was far too broken up to be considered one, “We don’t even know if programs  _ can _ get undigitized. I don’t want you dying just because I’m a little hurt.” 

“A  _ little- _ ” Tron snapped, then shook his head, “That doesn't matter, I don’t trust you to take care of yourself like this. Let me help you.” 

“I…” He looked to the portal, the wind blowing his hair wildly. “Fine, but. What about the Grid? Who’s going to take care of it?”

“My security teams- Anon...Clu, obviously.” Though he had mixed feelings about the last one. 

“Mmm. But you’re still like. The Guy. I don’t think that would be good to leave everyone alone.” 

“Can’t you make the system shutdown?” 

Flynn froze. Like he’d been caught in a trap. And maybe he had been. As far as Tron knew, the Grid had never been shut down. At all. And even the ENCOM system had occasionally been shut down. 

“Programs are designed to be able to handle system shutdowns, Flynn.” He reassured. 

“I- I guess.” Flynn coughed a little, wincing as he did so. “Alright. Alright. If you’re absolutely sure- but just know if you die, I’d never forgive myself.” 

They walked awkwardly to the glowing beam of light, Tron supporting him as he limped. 

Stepping into it made Tron gasp. It felt like electricity was dancing on his skin. Preparing him. An enticing  _ want _ seemed to envelop him. Like nothing he’d ever felt before. 

Flynn reached for his disk before stopping, his arm barely coming up above his shoulder, his face scrunching in pain. 

“Maybe. Maybe. You should do it.” 

Tron blinked and then undocked Flynn’s disk. The man leaned against his shoulder with a small noise of discomfort. 

When was the last time he had done this? Let his disk, or well,  _ a _ disk ascend into the sky, ready to communicate with his User. Never had he imagined that he’d be doing it with a User by his very side. 

He did it one-handed which was a little odd, but as he watched the disk ascend, Tron felt a wave of nostalgia. And then he started feeling something else as the disk got further away. 

He was  _ changing.  _

* * *

It felt like waking up. That was what he registered first. He was standing, but only for a moment as his knees felt weak. Someone was easing him into a chair, and then…

He blinked rapidly as his mind started to play catch up. This room was familiar. But not quite...it was like the room where Flynn rezzed in at in the Arcade. Yet more chaotic almost from what he was able to process. More Flynn-like. 

He stared blankly ahead and registered Flynn was in front of him, typing quickly at a terminal with only one hand, the other clenched around his side. He was still injured, and Tron felt guilt well up in his chest. How was he more concerned about himself when the reason he came was for Flynn? 

He made a move to stand up, but once again his knees wobbled as he only barely managed to get up. The motion caught the User’s attention, and he turned to him. 

“Don’t push yourself, Tron. The first time is rough.” 

Something about that statement made an alarm go off in Tron’s head. Unfortunately, his head wasn’t clear enough for him to figure out  _ why. _

Flynn didn’t let his silence deter him, “Well, at least I know the ‘emergency clothes protocol’ works.” 

Tron squinted at him, and then his eyes slowly fell down to himself. He wasn’t wearing his lightsuit. Not any of them. It was a two piece clothing set, like what Flynn wore except for the jacket. With absolutely no light lines of any kind. A gray long-sleeved shirt and pants, the measurements a bit off, slightly too short. He took the cuff of one of the sleeves and rubbed the fabric between his pointer finger and thumb. It was softer, more like a sleep render than proper clothes. 

“Sweats.” Flynn said incomprehensibly. 

“Right.” Tron replied, his gaze drifting behind Flynn, to the terminal.  _ To the Grid.  _ “Is it…?” 

He turned, his movement slow, “Yeah, it’s good. You’re allowed to punch me if it’s not.” 

“Good.” Tron’s voice was quiet. 

He then really started to look at Flynn. He was more...saturated. Not that he wasn’t on the Grid, but there was always an edge of grayscale to programs, made up for by the bright neon circuit lines. 

Tron brought his own hands up to his face. There was also a definite increase in saturation like Flynn, but maybe not quite as much. Still an undertone of gray, it seemed. His sleeves were being pulled down from the motion, and Tron turned his head curiously, reaching to pull them down further. 

He  _ still _ had skin-circuits. The glow was dimmer, looking more like tattoos, but they were still there. He really wasn’t that different. And yet...

“Woah.” Flynn took a step forward, trying to lean forward before he huffed out a pained breath. 

Tron cursed silently to himself and brought his hands up for his friend to see. Flynn took one of his hands and delicately turned it over, eyes wide. 

“You should rest.” He said as he was being examined, “You’re still hurt.” 

“I guess.” Flynn dropped his hand, “We’re lucky that today’s a day off, I feel like there’d be questions-” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. 

Tron nodded, and then slowly started to stand up from the chair. He almost growled in frustration as he wobbled still and Flynn took him by the elbow. He was supposed to be helping him, not the other way around. 

Different.  _ Different.  _ **_Different._ ** His body didn’t quite feel like it was his own, but at the same time felt like it fit him more than ever. 

They slowly started moving out of the room, each of them equally leaning on each other. What a fine pair they made. 

Out of nowhere the earlier remark Flynn had made seemed to strike him again. 

“Was it...was it this rough for you the first time you…?” 

Flynn clenched his jaw. 

It hadn’t seemed like it at the time, Flynn had just been a new novice program, who was far too cocky for his own good, already getting on the guard’s nerves. He hadn’t visibly seen any of what he was currently feeling happen to the User. And yet, apparently, it had happened. 

“How did you manage it?” 

“I didn’t.” He looked uncomfortable. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I handled it like I handle everything else. I just didn’t.” There was something that sounded like an almost bitter laugh. 

Tron was well aware that the ways Flynn handled things wasn’t exactly normal. There was something Flynn had said on the solar sailor that came to mind, ‘ _ I haven’t had a second to think since I got down here. I mean. In here. Out here. Whatever.’ _ It was something Tron hadn’t really thought about, still reeling from the fact that Flynn was a User. Maybe rather than not being able to think it was more like...Flynn had  _ forced _ himself not to think about it. It would make sense technically with the statement. Flynn was always better with wording truth in a way to be interpreted differently rather than straight out lies. 

His thoughts trickled out as they came to a door, which Flynn pushed open. It swung open slowly, and Tron raised an eyebrow as they came out on the other side. It wasn’t exactly a door, he reflected as it closed slowly. It was. An arcade machine. ( _ Which he recognized solely due to the ones Flynn had programmed inside...the Grid Arcade...which was a copy of this Arcade and- _ ) And the arcade machine had his name on it. And likenesses of himself and Yori on the side and- Though there was no way that it could be him- Which meant that it was-  _ Alan_One _ and- 

“Hey.” Flynn nudged him, concern softening his face. “You knew about this, right? This isn’t news to you. Everything’s fine, Tron.” 

Tron nodded stiffly, pushing the thoughts away. There was a time and place for an existential crisis. 

With that put aside, Tron proceeded to scan his surroundings. This Arcade was far different from it’s Grid counterpart. And Yet, Not. Warm colors rather than cool tones, soft edges where there would usually be sharp corners. Sounds bounced around the room from all the different cabinets, feeding into a beautiful cacophony that should’ve been overwhelming, but instead was exhilarating. And it reminded him strongly of the User who was right by his side. 

Though, there was something still familiar. The Neon. A warm feeling settled in Tron’s chest at the sight, and he noted with some relief that the light lines on his wrist flashed. There could be a sense of Normal in this place. Normal for him anyway.

“Don’t you have a room here?” Tron asked, recalling the place’s mirror. 

Flynn pointed with a lazy finger, “Mmmhmmm.” 

They moved, and Tron found that walking was getting easier, aside from the fact he was carrying Flynn. All of this should’ve felt like a dream. It really should’ve. 

“Flynn.” Tron said as they entered the back room of the place. There was a musty smell here. Musty, but homey. The whole place was organized clutter, verging on the unorganizable. It was definitely a place Flynn had spent a lot of time in. 

“Hm?” 

“Does it feel like the Grid is just a dream every time you leave it?” The stairs creaked beneath them. 

“Could you...expand on that?” His tone was curious, the tone that meant that he already knew how to answer the question but was just fishing for more information. 

“It doesn't make any sense. But this place. It feels more real than anything I’ve ever felt before. And The Grid. It feels only like a dream now.” His voice felt hollow, and they paused on the stairs. 

Flynn frowned, pushing himself away from him, looking him in the eyes. 

“I’ll tell you this. Whenever you're in one world, the other  _ always _ feels like a dream.” 

“Always?” 

He looked away, “Well, these days it seems like it’s more and more that this place is  _ always  _ the dream. Even when I’m here.” 

There was a beat of silence. How was he supposed to respond to that? This was such a delicate new discovery to learn, and Tron had no idea how to deal with it. He wasn’t sure he  _ would  _ be able to. He wasn’t sure anyone could. Until now, Flynn had been in an utterly unique situation. Even now, with him being in this world rather than the Grid- Flynn was still unique in the fact that he was the only User to have been digitized. Even if others were digitized as well, Flynn had been doing it for a long time now. How could anyone respond to it?

They started moving up the stairs again as a mutual silent decision, the room they came up to was familiar enough. Back in the Grid this room was supposed to be a little hang-out for them all. It hadn’t been used in cycles. And there also wasn’t a bed in there either. 

Flynn must’ve caught his gaze lingering on it and said, “I used to live here. Never bothered moving the bed just in case of late nights, the couch isn’t exactly the most ideal place to sleep.” 

Which, speaking of the bed vs the couch, he eyed each one. 

“Couch.” Flynn said shortly. 

They stumbled over to it, and Tron pondered why he didn’t disagree with the decision. It was so low to the ground. And the way Flynn was moving, he wasn’t sure the man could get up from it without help. Still, the User let out a sigh of relief as he sat down. Tron felt awkward, not quite sure where his legs were supposed to go. 

“I can’t believe the first time you come here is when I’m hurt.” Flynn said, looking at the ceiling, “I should be showing you  _ everything _ , man, but instead I’m sitting here, feeling like shit.” 

“It’s not your fault.”Flynn was excellent with lightcycles. Whatever he had hit that had made his lightcycle crash was far too small for even Tron to see. 

“That’s not the point!” He turned, frustrated, then winced in pain.

“Then what is the point?” 

“Something sharp, probably.” Flynn snapped. 

“ _ Flynn. _ ” 

He sighed, a hand flying to his side at the motion, “I don’t know- It was. It was supposed to be special. Not. Not ‘Pity Kevin Flynn Time’.” 

“I’m feeling many things, but I’m not feeling pity. Concern, yes? Pity, no.” 

“Mm.” He looked away, then down to where his hand rested. 

It hadn’t occurred to Tron that Flynn was now wearing different clothes. It had completely gone over his head. It was becoming a pattern that was hopefully just due to transferring to a completely different world. Like how it was transferring to a new system, right?

The jacket he was wearing had red- Well, they weren’t light lines, but they were close enough- but either way, it was slightly alarming. Tron had spent so much time fighting the Reds, that the sight of red circuit lines still threw him off. And to see Flynn wearing them? Then again, he had seen him wearing proper red light lines as well- His thoughts were going everywhere. 

Flynn pulled up on his shirt to get a better look at his side. 

Tron blanched.

It was already blooming with dashes of color, reds, purples, and blues. It was fascinating but looked extremely painful. That much he could gather. 

“I’m not going to be able to take care of you.” Tron said mostly to himself with a sinking feeling. He was supposed to be able to. But this wasn’t something he was equipped to handle. He felt so helpless. Which was wrong, he was supposed to be able to take care of everyone. It was his job.

Flynn rolled his eyes, and started to try and take off his jacket, but was struggling. Tron shook his head slightly, scooching forward to help him. It was a slow process taking much longer than it should’ve. 

When that was over and done with, Flynn leaned back with a noise of contentment, free from his prison of a jacket. Tron brought his legs up to his chest and held them. 

“I’m gonna have to tell Alan, aren’t I?” 

“Are you?” He tried to suppress the happiness that welled up in him at the name. This was supposed to be serious. He squirmed a little to get his shirt back into a proper position. Only a little too short. 

“I’ve screwed up really bad. All around...it was inevitable that I was gonna have to tell them. I never accounted for getting hurt in the Grid.” He paused for a moment and then his eyes widened, “Or getting  _ killed _ . Or for some reason not being able to get to the portal- Damn it, what was I thinking? Oh, right, I wasn’t-” He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair, a low groan of pain accompanying the motion.

“That. Is…” He had two choices, to be serious, or to lighten the situation with humor, and considering… “Not a surprise.” 

Flynn snorted, “Yup.” 

Tron frowned, leaning back into the couch. “I’ve made mistakes of my own.” 

“I don’t think so, Tron.” 

“Really? How many times could I have objected to one of your ‘stupid’ ideas instead of just hinting at it?” 

“You shouldn’t have to-”

“Yes, I should. That’s just how this works. How it’s supposed to work. I put you being a User over everything else, and I mean, look at all  _ this _ -” He gestured around them, “It’s not so different.  _ You’re _ not so different.” 

“Well, until it is.” 

Tron sighed, crossing his arms. He couldn’t exactly argue about that. 

“We're a bit of a mess, aren’t we?” 

“Just a little bit.” He replied with a huff. 

**Author's Note:**

> mmmm finally got to write a boy getting zapped fic, niceeee,, , i'm not like?? super in love with this but, i think it's decent. it ends a little abruptly because i can't write. (its a joke, relax)
> 
> uhhh this line : ‘I haven’t had a second to think since I got down here. I mean. In here. Out here. Whatever.’ ,, is actually a line from like the script/novelization?? yet another one i wished had made it into the movie but didn't *insert sad face* 
> 
> haha, i know full well i'm gonna use some of these concepts again in future fics just you wait. fanfic brain be wild.


End file.
